


A Rocky Start

by Han502653



Series: A Hunter Family [4]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, Kid Knuckle, Kid Shoot, Knuckle is bitter and angry, Knuckle's past refuses to let him go, Shoot is a giant ball of anxiety, cursing, so this should go great right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 03:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Han502653/pseuds/Han502653
Summary: Morel has two students now – two very different students and yet two students with more similarities than they know.He’s pretty sure things will work out eventually, but that doesn’t mean the road won’t be bumpy—or one of his student’s past will so easily let him go.Meanwhile Knuckle is just waiting for the other shoe to drop – because it always does eventually.





	1. An Uncertain Start

Knuckle shoved his fisted hands deep in his pockets as he waited for the old man to open his door. He scowled deeply at the floor. He didn’t want to be here—not in some old man’s debt—because he _knew_ what this was—he might have stopped him from going to prison for now but he _knew_ when something was too good to be true. It might look like a freebie now but tomorrow suddenly he owed him.

Owed him a _lot_.

That’s how it _always_ worked.

He scowled deeper and slumped harder.

“Okay kid, just one thing—” The old man started—there it was—as he turned, door still closed. Knuckle jutted his lip out further—he hated being called kid—he was 13 years old dammit! “Remember what I said, about my other student—how he’s a bit… skittish.”

When he didn’t go further—refused to go further— Knuckle let out a huge sigh and rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

The old man grunted—looked amused even which just soured Knuckle further. “Yes, well, try to be non-threatening. I know you can manage that.”

Knuckle scowled even further, but he couldn’t do anything about him knowing his biggest secret. The old man continued to just smile down at him, seemingly willing to stand there for the rest of the night. After a minute Knuckle let out another sigh and released some of the tension in his shoulders.

Grinning wider the old man patted him on the back once—he didn’t pout, he _didn’t_ —turned back and opened the door.

“Hey, Shoot, I’m back!”

Knuckle had expected to hear thundering footsteps as the old man’s kid, or student, or whatever ran to greet him—but instead he didn’t even notice as a shadow slunk out of a side door—not until the old man shifted to greet him that was.

“Hello,” the shadow whispered. All Knuckle could make out was purple.  Knuckle frowned.

“Hey kid, how was things? The old man asked as he continued into the room, exposing Knuckle to view. The shadow seemed to almost flinch back at his presence. Knuckle frowned harder. “You know, this money _was_ for you. Did you even eat?”

Knuckle looked over to see a small stack of bills on a table.

“There was food here…” the shadow barely said.

“Sure, but you were supposed to treat yourself.” The old man sighed and seemed to drop it. He turned around and gestured at Knuckle who totally didn’t flinch. “Well anyway, this is the kid I told you about on the phone. Shoot McMahon meet Knuckle Bine, your new peer. Knuckle this is Shoot, my first student.”

“Yo,” Knuckle shrugged, wanting to get annoying formalities over with and be let go—if he ever would.

The shadow flinched, again.

“H-hello,” he greeted, before looking over at the old man as if in panic. Knuckle narrowed his eyes and also glanced at him before huffing and glancing away.

The old man let out a sigh even as he grinned. “Alright, Knuckle your room is upstairs to the left, you’ll be sharing with Shoot—you put the futon down like I asked right Shoot—” at Shoot’s tiny nod he barreled forward. “We’ll look into getting you a proper bed and necessities tomorrow. Go check it out, I’ll order out for dinner tonight, is pizza good?”

Knuckle glanced between the old man and the shadow as the shadow quietly agreed. What the hell was up with this? “Yeah, sure,” he agreed belatedly before storming between them and towards the hall. From behind he caught the sound of floorboards creaking as the shadow jumped back as he passed.

Jeeze, what the hell. He had expected the other man’s student to be as cheerfully loud as he was but the kid was like a fucking mouse. Was the guy secretly a creep or something? Was he going to have to snatch the kid and break out? Fuck it, the dude was a hunter he could probably hunt him down like nothing, and his record was still over his head but hell, if he was going to jump out of the frying pan just to land in the fire. He’d make the jump dammit.

Promising to keep on his guard, Knuckle kicked open the door to a good size room—perfectly clean and nearly spartan save a bookshelf and the futon on the floor—also perfectly made. Knuckle scowled at it and kicked it once, and then twice for good measure, and as soon as it was crooked enough to his liking he collapsed onto it.

He winced instantly and swallowed a hiss. His ribs throbbed—Stupid CPR—Stupid old man.

He turned on his side and glared at the wall. Why _him_. Yeah, so what he’d jumped into that sea to save that cat but that didn’t make him a good guy, or Hunter material. He was just a stupid kid who got suckered into a gang who promised to help him, fell into debt, and got suckered in harder.

That’s how it worked. That’s how this was going to work to. He _knew_ it.

 

It took about a week before Knuckle started to get convinced Old Man wasn’t the reason Shadow was like how he was. He liked to think he would have figured that out faster, but the guy was like a mouse, in the shadows, and even when he was in the room he was half-impossible to notice. More than once Knuckle totally _didn’t_ jump as he realized he was being watched.

Frick, it had taken him a day and a half to notice the kid only had one arm, and another to realize that despite the hunching he was _taller_ than him.

That had pissed him off.

Pissed off proper, not pouting. Stupid Old Man.

Shopping sucked, even when getting stuff for himself, because he knew this was just adding on to his debt.

Old Man had just bought a second replica of Shadow’s bed, but had told Knuckle to go around a pick the best mattress for himself.

He’d tried to grab the cheapest one, a springy old cot thing. It was better than a lot of places he’d slept before, fuck that futon had been, but Old Man had cuffed him on the head. “A good mattress is one of the best purchases you can buy.” He had told him, like he was the one buying it and not the old man. And, “I have more money than I know what to do with, so don’t worry about price.”

That had made him feel like a charity case, which had pissed him off. He’d pick one of the most expensive ones then, but Old Man had just looked amused and maybe even pleased.

That had pissed him off more.

Then clothing.

He’d gotten dragged off to get underwear and socks, good hiking shoes and a winter coat, and then some formal ware. “Just in case.” Old man had said. “I avoid them when I can, but looking professional dose wonders to people’s impressions of you and formal gatherings are all but impossible to avoid as Hunters, at the very least you have to deal with clients.”

He had scowled as he was forced to raise his arms for the tailors, accidentally catching Shadow’s eye from where he been doing his very best to be absorbed into Old Man’s shadow all day. He flinched from the look and Knuckle scowl fell to an annoyed frown. What was with him? Wasn’t he supposed to be training to be a Hunter?

Then he had been given free reign of the mall to pick out the rest of his wardrobe. Old Man was happy to follow him around, bags in his one hand, his constant Shadow at his feet.

It had been…

_Not_ overwhelming, _not_ nerve-racking, _not_ …

…

He’d only shopped for clothes twice in his life, both at a thrift store. Otherwise he’d just worn cast offs from neighbor kids older than him, and then later, well later he’d grab what he needed from one of the drop off bins which was basically the same thing really.

He’d never… he didn’t…

That’s when Old Man started talking again. Debating out loud what he still needed to get: Swimsuit, sparring ware, raincoat and umbrella, casual clothes both for warm and cold as they’d, “Be traveling a lot.”

It was entirely coincidental that he’d followed the list Old Man had rambled out like a weirdo. _Entirely_ coincidental.

Also entirely coincidental that he’d gotten pretty much everything from one store that had just happened to be rather close to where they had started.

 

He’d though that he’d ditched school when he punched that cop. Not that he’d really hated it. He’d never really had a hard time with it, got decent grades, made him Mama happy and his Nana content. Math was even almost fun…

But school was lame, and dropping out was supposed to be cool and if school was lame then he figured Hunters didn’t do school but he’d been wrong. Old Man made him sign up for this weird homeschool program that Shadow did, even bought him a laptop for it. Told him it was good for on the road.

He’d been annoyed with that but was more pissed with—after taking the stupid enrollment test—to find himself a year behind where he should be if he’d not…

Well…

Old Man had just told him that it was fine, and that he could work hard and catch up if it bothered him—which it _didn’t_ , school was _lame_ , who _cared_ —and that Sho—Shadow was actually two years ahead where he should be even—which had caused Shadow to blush red as all out and look anywhere but at him.

Also apparently Shadow was a year older than him? He pout—was even more pissed off than ever.

Whatever. At least he’d gotten a laptop out of the deal, and a backpack with a place to store it, some pens and notebooks, a ruler and a calculator…

He hadn’t had so much stuff for school since… since his first day and his Mama had saved up all summer to go a bit overboard over him.

 

It took a week and a half and two doctors’ appointments—one to check on his ribs, the other to check on everything else and torture him with shots—before he’d been allowed to join in on Old Man and Shadow’s training. He hadn’t even been allowed to _watch_ beforehand.

He’d stood there on the thick training mat and watched unimpressed as Shadow fidgeted on the other side. His face might have been shadowed by his bangs but it didn’t do a good enough job to hide the uncertainty or anxiety in the twist of his lips. Knuckle almost felt bad, he’d fought a lot in the past year, he was good at it, and he was going to _destroy_ him.

“Ready?” Old Man asked with his grin, sitting cross-legged a bit to the side, his large pipe over his shoulders. That was still the _weirdest_ weapon Knuckle had ever seen, especially since he’d never even seen the guy smoke from it.

“A-are you sure…” Shadow managed to stutter out. Knuckle wondered if he should just convince Old Man to end it now. Then again maybe a good beating would give the guy some spine.

“Don’t worry, Shoot, the doc’s say he’s well on the way to recovery and he can take quite a beating aside.” Old Man shrugged. “Just avoid hitting his chest too much, hmm.”

Knuckle rolled his eyes. Old Man’s tendency to hear what he wanted to hear was getting annoying. That was not what Shadow had meant—OOF

Knuckle went sliding back, having only just managed to partially deflect a hit. Wide-eyed he barely dodged the next swing and then a kick only to choke as his shirt was grabbed and he flew over Shadow’s shoulder to the mat below. He rolled with him and before Knuckle could think he was pinned.

“End! Good job Shoot.”

Blinking in confusion Knuckle tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened. That had been nothing like the brawls he’d gotten into, Shadow had been nothing like he expected him to be, and despite being thrown and pinned his chest… didn’t really hurt any more than it had a moment ago…

“Are you okay?” Shadow asked as he got up. Knuckle could only huff and stare as he followed to his knees.

Okay fine, maybe that _is_ what Shadow had meant.

“Fine,” Knuckle snapped without any bite. Shadow flinched but not as much as he usually did and they got back up. Old Man clapped him on the back and told him not to worry, that Shadow had several years of experience on him but they’d catch him up real quick, then split them up to do different exercises.

Knuckle went through a staggering amount of pushups, pullups and endurance runs but as he did he couldn’t help but glance over every once and awhile at Shad— Shoot.

That had been… unexpected.

 

Super powers! The old man had _Super Powers!_ And probably Shoot as well and he was going to get them too!

No wonder the boat had been so foggy despite the high winds of the storm, Old Man had done it!

He’d been given a lecture—probably the most interesting lecture he’d _ever_ sat for, and a demonstration with Old Man’s pipe—no wonder he carried around that weird thing—and he couldn’t _wait_.

But he _had_ to because Old Man was a prick and said he wanted Knuckle fully healed before he tried to awaken his nen, just in case. Instead of something cool he’d given him some mumbo-jumbo meditation thinking exercise thing to do while he waited. Told him if he did that long enough his Nen would awaken on its own anyway. But why wait, he could tell there was a faster way, so what if it was a little dangerous, his _life_ was dangerous.

He was good enough to spar, how come he wasn’t good enough for superpowers. So _lame._

 

He’d been living with them for two and a half weeks when Old Man had told him in a day or two he’d be taking him to the bank to get an account. That he’d be getting a monthly allowance like Shoot.

Knuckle might have stared at him. Old Man just promised him he’d get his back pay; things had just been a bit busy to set it up right away. But Knuckle hadn’t gotten it. He still didn’t. Old Man was feeding him, sheltering him, clothing him, teaching him…and was now _giving_ him money. Did he just have so much money he didn’t get how it worked?

It was too good to be true. It wasn’t going to last.

But… while it did maybe he could…

He’d always wanted to but he had never made enough that didn’t get confiscated right away…

He still remembered his old address. If he could convince Old Man to just give him the money instead he could send it over easy.

If not, well he’d get checks right, he could send it over that way—actually that sounded better, less likely to get stolen.

Problem was… he wasn’t sure how checks even worked. He wasn’t even sure if his mom had a bank account. Or if something bad would happen if he drained his bank account giving everything to his mom.

He tried looking it up on the web but everything was in legalese or something and he just didn’t get it.

And he still didn’t get it when he sat next to Old Man on the bus heading to the bank two days later.

“What’s bugging you, Kid?”

Knuckle’s lips twitched, he still hated that name.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, sure, and all kids sulk as they go to get free money.”

Free money, it sounded wrong even coming from him. That’s just not how it worked. None of this was how it worked. It didn’t make sense. Still though…

“If I wanted to send money to someone… how do you do that?” He rushed out before he could change his mind.

“Hmm,” Old Man shifted to glance down at him. Knuckle refused to look into his eyes—or well his sunglasses. Frankly he still wasn’t fully convinced Old Man even _had_ eyes at this point. “To who? Knuckle if someone is still after you for—”

“Not them,” Knuckle snapped, then hunched again and stared at his knees. “My mom,” he muttered under his breath. He wasn’t even really sure Old Man had heard him as he was silent for a long time.

“Well, to start a letter.”

Knuckle’s brows furrowed. He glanced up, more confused than embarrassed. “A letter?”

“Yes, to your mom.” Knuckle winced at the look he sent him and looked back down. “Telling her you’re okay and safe, and one every month after that.”

Knuckle made a face, cheeks burning but slowly nodded. He knew an order when he heard one. He also knew a requirement when he heard one. And his mom probably _was_ worried.

“And half.”

Knuckle’s brows furrowed again though he didn’t look up this time. “Half?”

“You can send half of what you get each month.”

“But—!”

“No buts, you need to save up something for yourself, unless you want to become an adult with nothing to your name?”

Totally _not_ pouting Knuckle crossed his arms and huffed. “Fine.”

“Good then, I can arrange things for you.”

Knuckle huffed again, but a warm feeling swirled in his gut at the thought. He’d finally be able to help, even if only just a little.

 

Morel watched as Knuckle trudged out of the office over to the display table showing the different check designs one could choose from.

“Alright, now that is done, all we have to do is finalize the first investment, and the amount of money you’re going to be wiring in monthly.”

Morel hummed still watching the boy as a young girl accidentally bumped into him. He caught her before she could fall all the way, and after a quick glance around crouched down to her level. As he watched the near tears quickly turned to giggles. “Yes, that will be 150 to start.”

“Quite a bit of back pay I see,” the banker, somewhat a friend of his if only because he’d helped with Shoot’s accounts grinned. Morel hummed. “And for the automatic transfer amount, 50 correct?”

“No make it a hundred.”

“A hundred.” He sounded surprised. Morel frowned as he watched the girl’s mother come and collect her daughter, how she quickly hurried away from Knuckle. How Knuckle hunched some, hands in his pockets, before going back to the display. “That’s double than what you do for—”

“I’m aware,” Morel turned back to the banker. “Actually there is something else I need you to do.”

 

“Alright boys, will you two be alright while I’m gone?” Morel asked as he easily rested his pipe over his shoulder, a briefcase in one hand.

Shoot nodded next to him but Knuckle couldn’t help the slight smirk. “And if were not? It’s not like you have a choice. You said it was an emergency?”

Morel grinned, “Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of potential babysitters if that’s what you want. That could keep you in line.” Shoot shuddered next to Knuckle and for once he wanted to do the same. Instead he huffed and crossed his arms, staring out the window.

“We’ll be fine.”

“Good, you have my emergency contact. Call me if you need me, but only if it’s an _emergency._ Otherwise we’re on radio silence. If you need help otherwise Shoot has Knov’s number, right Shoot?” Shoot nodded. “Good, and there is money on the table if you want some take out, and food in the pantry, I’ll see you two in a few weeks, do you school work and training, and don’t blow anything up while I’m gone.”

Knuckle stared at the closed door for a long minute. “Does he really think we’ll go and blow something up,” he mused only half serious to Shoot still next to him.

“ _I’ve_ never blown anything up,” Shoot replied only to look terrified and red faced and he quickly turned and fled.

“Hey!” Knuckle defended but didn’t bother to follow, knowing he was doing his fancy Nen sneaky trick again. He always was.

Huffing he crossed his arms again. He’d only blow thing up a handful of times, and they didn’t know about _any_ of them. _Rude_ , the lot of them.


	2. A Momentary Taste of Normality

“Y-you took the money.”

Knuckle shrugged as he dropped what was left back onto the small hall table. “Yeah, so, it’s not like _you_ were going to use it.”

He could see Shoot was attempting to build up the courage to say something else but ignored him. Instead he routed through his backpack and threw him a wrapped hoagie. “Here.”

If nothing else Shoot caught the sandwich instead of flinching from it. For a moment he looked more confused than nervous.

“What?”

“That’s for dinner,” Knuckle grumbled as he pulled out his own hoagie. Last night after Morel left Shoot had gone and cooked something while Knuckle was playing with his laptop. When Knuckle had finally gotten hungry enough to move he’d been surprised to find enough left for him. “You like Italian right, extra hot peppers.”

“…Yes.”

“Don’t look so surprised. That’s what you got the two times Morel got sandwiches, isn’t it?—These are supposed to be _way_ better than those though, probably cheaper too.”

“…Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Knuckle allowed himself to fall back onto the couch and took a large bite. Some of the sauce dripped down his chin. “It’s your money to innit? You cook dinner one night, I get something the next, sound good?”

“…Sure.”

“Good. I don’t like being in debt.”

Shoot seemed to have something to say about that as well, but instead just shook his head and headed into the kitchen to eat. Knuckle huffed around his sandwich.

 

Knuckle snatched up the money every dawn before leaving for his morning run. No reason not to, Shoot was unlikely to touch it anyway, or even leave the house. He dumped it back in its spot each night anyway. He wasn’t _stealing_ it either.

None the less Shoot seemed to have accepted the deal, he cooked dinner every other night and Knuckle found something good and cheap in small restaurants and food stands around the city for the others.

Knuckle spent as much time as he could out of the house. It was too quiet without Morel and boring beside. Beyond the minimum amount of time he needed to do his school work (and maybe a little extra to look up banks—it _still_ bothered him he’d had to ask for help) he avoided the place like a plague. He was tempted to take the laptop out with him—his bag was made for it after all—but wasn’t dumb enough. That thing was worth more than everything else he owned combined.

He still couldn’t believe he _had_ it.

It was more interesting running around the city, figuring out where things were: the best restaurants and sites and parks and places to pick-pocket… Uh, not that he was doing that. It was just, after two years, he couldn’t look at a street or plaza or park without considering possibilities. That’s how he’d first proved his worth, that and snatch-and-runs up until Uzo had snatched him to help him run drugs.

But mostly he ran. Morel had said his speed, endurance, and ability to go from zero to top speed was impressive. Not that he’d needed to be told that of course, not at _all_. Of _course_ it was. He’d out run an entire police squad once for over a day before he fled town. He knew how awesome he was.

…

Nobody had ever told him that before though…

_Whatever._

 

The back of Knuckle’s neck prickled. Knuckle looked up from these really awesome fried dough ball things filled with all sorts of fillings to find a young girl holding the leash of a cat staring at him.

“What are you eating?” She asked.

“Food.” Knuckle replied. “Why is your cat on a leash?”

“’Cause he likes to be outside but I don’ want him to get runned over. Can I have some?”

“No. Where’s your parents?”

The girl pouted and crossed her arms. Knuckle ignored her to pet the cat that had begun rubbing his legs. “I dunno. Mamma told me that if I get lost to come to the fountain.” She pouted harder. “ _She’s_ the one who got lost, not _me_.”

“Sure,” Knuckle agreed as the cat jumped onto his lap.

“He just wants your food you know.”

“Sorry cat—”

“Oscur!”

“Sorry Oscur, bread and fruits not good for you.”

Knuckle looked up and glanced at the girl. She was at most six, in a small jean dress and pigtails. Despite the serious pout on her lips Knuckle could see the tension growing in her shoulders as she watched the crowd around them.

Knuckle stuffed one last ball into his mouth before holding the paper cone out. “You like cherry, I don’t like cherry?” Cherry was actually fine, not his favorite, unless they were dried, but good enough. He’d been saving them because he noticed Shoot went after cherry options when given the chance. No point eating something he was only meh about.

The girl frowned at him. “I thought you said I couldn’ have any,” she accused.

Knuckle shrugged. “I forgot about the cherry ones.”

The girls frowned at him harder for a long moment and then pulled herself up to sit next to him on the fountain. She grabbed the cone from his hand and stuffed a ball into her mouth. Knuckle looked away and watched the crowd as she ate. After a minute or two he noticed a slight commotion—an older woman looking panicked, head swinging back and forth. “That your mom?” He pointed.

The girl looked up, powder sugar covering her chin and hands. “Huh, oh yeah.” She jumped off and ran towards her, Oscur meowling as he was jerked with her. Halfway there she suddenly turned on her toe and waved back. “Thanks for the cherry balls!” She yelled—drawing the attention of her mother and half of the crowd around them. Then turned back around and ran the rest of the way to her clearly distraught mother. “Mamma! You got _lost!_ ” she accused as she was pulled into a hug.

Bemused Knuckle jumped off the fountain and left.

 

“Hi guys!”

Knuckle laughed as a big Saint Bernard all but ran him down as he let himself into the dog park. He’d found it on his second day walking around and hadn’t failed to visit every day since.

Joey, the Saint Bernard, was a regular. He’d been here every day he’d come, and his owner waved slightly before going back to his book. One or two others he had also seen before and the rest were new. Owners dotted the park and Knuckle just grinned at two that had walked over to see if he was alright. He’d found out pretty quick that a young boy willing to run with their dogs, get them to exercise and tire them out was quickly accepted.

It had taken a bit longer for some but apparently Joey’s owner was a known figure at the park, and if he was okay with it most regulars were okay with it.

“C’mon! Chase me!” Knuckle laughed as he dodged Joey’s attempt to snuffle at his pocket.  He ran off across the park and most of the dogs followed to some degree or another. Some even outpaced him and circled him. Laughing Knuckle rolled down a hill and giggled at the bottom as several doggy noses tickled him. Sitting up he rolled his eyes and peered around carefully. He’d found this spot the first day, a part that was hidden from most of the park—the part near the door. Owners rarely came over here. “Alright, alright, I know what you want.”

Knuckle pulled out his two bags of jerky and handed it out as fairly as he could laughing the entire time.

“Alright, last one, who gets it!”

“So that’s why they all love you so much.”

Knuckle froze and leaned his head back. Joey’s owner stared down at him. With a snatch Joey grabbed the last piece of jerky from Knuckle’s hands. His owner snorted and shook his head. “So rude, Joey, did you even thank him for the snack.”

Knuckle blinked as Joey woofed.

Joey’s owner only held a finger to his lips with a small smile before whistling and heading off. Joey followed obediently behind him.

Knuckle watched him go wide eyed, finally falling back onto the grass, only to then giggle as a few of the remaining dogs took their chance for a sneak attack—and tried to get their heads into the now empty bag.

“Enough! Enough! It’s empty! Hahah!”

 

His favorite time to be out and about was at twilight and later. Part of it was because it was cooler than mid-day, part of it was because he wasn’t still drowsy from sleeping, and part of it was just he was used to working in the dark and it was nice to get away from the bustle of the city always was during the day.

It was Shoot’s day to cook, so he had just been thinking of turning back so his dinner wouldn’t be too cold. Shoot was a surprisingly good cook, granted Morel was as well. He was pretty far off from Morel’s apartment, near the port and the harbor. If he turned back now he’d get there by ten, maybe ten-thirty.

“Hey, it’s ol’ _Knuckles_.”

Knuckle froze. A bearded man stepped out from an ally in front of him grinning past a cigarette. Knuckle recognized him, though only from sight and took a step back.

“Oh, don’t _go_ , we haven’t seen you for _so_ long.” Another voice—familiar but only just, snickered from behind him. Knuckle jumped and turned to find four more men.

“Yeah, we wanted to make sure you were _okay_ , kid?” another voice agreed behind him. Knuckle turned once more to find four more people had joined the first. He was surrounded.

“Yeah, you gave us quite a scare there.” The first one nodded as they moved closer. “Jumping inta that ocean, talkin’ to that _Hunter_.”

A chorus of agreements followed and Knuckle twisted and turned looking for an opening to run.

He didn’t find one.

 

“Now, now boys, you didn’t have to be so rough,” was the first thing Knuckle could make out as he swayed on his knees. He wasn’t sure if he’d passed out or if he’d just went loopy for a while, but finally things were starting to make sense again.

His chest, that had _finally_ been almost healed, was throbbing again. His arms and legs weren’t much better. He was pretty sure one of his eyes was swelling and his jaw hurt. His arms were pulled back and tied. A sack was over his head.

He’d seen people in this position—it never ended well for them.

He shook. He’d thought he was far enough away…

He’d thought a Hunter would be able to protect him.

But Morel wasn’t here and he’d never been good enough.

“Aw, but _boss_ , he’s a _traitor._ ”

“Now, now, he’s just a little boy,” the soothing tone passed through his aching head and despite it Knuckle grimaced. He knew who it was—not personally, he’d just been one of the big boss’s favorites but he knew enough to know that soothing tone meant nothing. “Now, don’t be rude, let the boy see.”

The sack was pulled roughly from his head and Knuckle hissed as some hair was caught and his eyes stung from the bright warehouse lights.

The man in front of him clucked his tongue and leaned in close. Knuckle failed to avoid leaning away. “Oh, look at the poor thing, really there was no need for this,” Mako scolded through a smile as he poked Knuckle’s swelling jaw. Knuckle tried to hold back his flinch but didn’t quite manage. “He’s part of the family after all.”

More than anything that made his stomach drop. He’d thought maybe… he’d gotten out.

“And we can’t blame him for falling to a Hunter, I’m sure we all would have eventually,” he continued all smiles. “I’m sure you held your tongue as long as you could.”

His voice made it clear he knew quite well he hadn’t, but Knuckle had to try. “Broke my ribs,” He muttered. That was _true_ after all. “And it’s not like I had anything to tell.” That was true too, he’d spilled what he’d known but he didn’t know much—fake names the top used, one or two minor safe houses, and the drug operation that had already been caught.

“Now, now, in the hands of a Hunter even the most minor of information is deadly,” Mako continued to grin at him. Knuckle shuddered. “But your just a little boy, I can’t blame you for not understanding that.”

He was dead, he was _so_ dead.

“Don’t worry, we have a new task for you to do and once it’s done, all will be forgiven.”

So, _so_ dead. A slow death. Or framing. An example. Morel was never going to bail him out a second time. He’d never get to learn Nen. Morel was going to be so _angry_. If he didn’t die it was going to be prison. Then probably death _in_ prison.

_“Agreed?”_

Knuckle slumped but nodded. There had to be a way out of this. There _had_ to be. He didn’t… he didn’t… he didn’t want to prove Morel wrong… prove that officer right.

He was pulled to his feet and untied. They even gave him his bag back—it had been obviously riffled through, what was left of the cash was gone but the notebook—the only other thing he had in it—was still there.

“What’s with all that math,” one of the stooges grumbled as he was led through the warehouse. Knuckle hugged his bag to himself and didn’t lift his head from the floor.

“Trying to figure out how banks work,” he muttered. There was a chance he’d get smacked again if he didn’t.

Another man snorted. “That’s easy. They steal from you, end of story.”

Knuckle ignored the snorts from around him as he was pushed into the back of a rundown car. Mako slid in shotgun and smiled back at him, and two other cars soon roared to life around them.

There had to be a way out.

There _had_ to be.

 

But for the life of him he had no idea what it was.

 

It was almost an hour before the cars pulled to a stop at a small rundown building just out of city limits. Knuckle glanced around at the trees that surrounded them and debated how likely he could out run and hide from them in the trees. He was _pretty_ sure he knew how to get back to the city—his headache had made it harder than normal to keep track of where he was though—his legs hurt too.

“Right this way, Knuckle,” Mako smiled at him and gestured him towards the door. He had a knowing grin on his face and Knuckle gulped and staggered forward. Arm around his shoulder Mako led him right through the front door—there were five more guys inside who all glared at them from their game of cards, and to a large crate in the corner.

“Here it is! We just need you to run these drugs to Manhall City, nothing too hard, right.” Mako grinned as he motioned to two of his men with crowbars. They stepped forward. “You’re good with animals, right?”

Knuckle frowned at him, but with a pop the lid snapped off and Knuckle blinked into a crate of not drugs, but five roly-poly puppies who were whimpering pitifully in some soiled hay.

“Brilliant really, real live drug mules… or rather drug puppies I suppose. Nobody would think to look inside such a cute face, don’t you agree.”

Knuckle’s bag dropped and he saw red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As sad as this is the poor puppies used as drug mules was a real story I heard about ages ago--and it popped into my head as I was brainstorming Knuckle's past.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed despite that though! One more chapter to go!


	3. Making of a New, Different Normal

Shoot wasn’t so sure how he felt about Knuckle. Morel seemed to like and trust him well enough but he was… _scary_. He walked around with a swagger like he owned the place and cursed at the drop of the hat, even to Morel or the lady at the mall who had only just been trying to make sure he didn’t need help. He huffed and scowled and glared and took all the money Morel had left them—

And he’d remembered what his favorite hoagie was despite having never mentioned it out loud since he’d been around. And he noticed which pizza toppings he liked and took a pretty good guess with the barbeque too. And as much as Shoot didn’t want to admit it—that hoagie really was a _lot_ better than where Morel usually got his.

He also saw everything in debts which… it was _both_ of their money but well… Shoot guessed the food in the pantry was for both of them too… and he was here mostly to try to pay Morel back so really he couldn’t judge.

But he was nerve wracking, and weird, and loud when he wasn’t being all moody and Shoot wasn’t sure about him…

…but it was almost three in the morning and he’d never stayed out this long and maybe something was wrong—or maybe he was just taking a long walk—or maybe he got lost—or was meeting with his old gang and telling them all sorts of Hunter secrets like Nen—or running away—or hurt—or…

Conflicted Shoot stared at the door sweating. He almost never left the house alone, especially when Morel wasn’t home—he could, and he had, but what if he was _wrong_ , what if something _bad_ was happening or what if—

BANG!BANG!BANG!

Shoot broke reality enough to freeze even more. It was three in the morning. He was alone. Knuckle was missing, and someone was slamming against the door hard enough the rattle the doorframe.

His heart was racing. He should open it—or maybe at least peer through the peep hole—but what if it was a trap, what if—

“Shoot, please! Open it!” It sounded like Knuckle, but it couldn’t be Knuckle. Knuckle had a key he could get in himself—and Knuckle had… never sounded so…so _hysterical_ before… or called him by _name_ —

At that thought Shoot surged forward and unlocked the door, pulling the door open only to freeze again.

Knuckle’s face met him. Knuckle’s broken, swelling, bruised face met him. Knuckle’s tear and snot stained face met him.

Shoot was so startled by that face he barely noticed how Knuckle was carrying his backpack in his arms until it wiggled and a soft whimper leaked from it.

“Knuckle…”

He sobbed, but through it Shoot could barely make out some words. “They ambushed me—the puppies—drugs—I didn’t _want_ to—sick Bastards—they need help, Shoot, they sowed the drugs _in_ them— _help_!”

At one last sob, at the realization that Knuckle couldn’t— _didn’t_ know what to do—Shoot jumped to action and all but leaped towards the phone. He plugged into the number he’d memorized years ago but had never used—even a few times maybe he _should_ have.

Sick puppies may not have justified breaking radio silence. Knuckle getting ambushed and beaten and kidnapped by his old gang definitely did. The phone barely rang once before Morel was picking up.

“Morel—” Shoot tried tears of his own beginning to drip down as the situation hit him.

“Shoot? Shoot what’s wrong?”

“Knuckle he—” Shoot turned to look at him—he’d stumbled in and closed the door and then had collapsed to the floor and was now attempting to calm the puppies in the bag. He was still crying and didn’t seem all there—now in proper lighting Shoot realized that his face was far from the only place he’d been hit.

“He what? Shoot! I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Quickly and efficiently!”

Taking a deep breath—remembering the exercises Morel had made him do. “Knuckle came back just now, he’s really hurt—I think his old gang found him and beat him and tried to make him do something I think—he had a bunch of puppies in his bag—Maybe they did something to _them_ —he’s all panicked and isn’t making a lot of sense.”

Morel was quiet for a long moment. Shoot took that moment to take a deep breath and try to calm down. He wiped at his eyes.

“Alright, this is what you’re going to do. I’m going to give you an address. It’s the address of an animal shelter Knuckle will know. Take Knuckle and the puppies there, it isn’t far and _stay_ there until I or Knov show up, alright. I’ll call and let them know you’re coming and handle all of that. You just need to get them there and keep an eye on Knuckle, alright.”

Morel’s voice was calm but there was an undercurrent of… Shoot didn’t know, but it sounded scary.

“Okay.”

“Good I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

The shelter was silent. They’d gotten there just as a car had pulled up with a young woman. Shoot had nearly bolted away but Knuckle had run up to her and had all but shoved the bag into her arms—attempting to explain what was wrong in a jumble of words and begging her to save them.

That had been about an hour ago, now he was sitting silently in the waiting room. Almost like a statue. A few other people had showed up since then and joined the lady in the medical room.

Shoot had watched uncertainly, but mostly he was concerned. Knuckle hadn’t moved since the first lady had taken the dogs into a room he couldn’t follow. He didn’t seem to notice the bruising and swelling but Shoot did. He shuffled nearby with the first aid kit he’d grabbed from Morel’s before dragging Knuckle out.

“Will—you,” he started, wincing as Knuckle didn’t even shift. Shoot took a deep breath. “Would you let me clean you up—it will be awhile until they are done.”

He was proud of himself for that, especially as Knuckle finally shifted to look at him. He had stopped crying though his face was still a mess. Shoot wasn’t sure if he’d stopped because he’d calmed down or if because he was too dehydrated to continue.

He shrugged. Shoot swallowed and sat in the seat next to him and opened the extra-large box.

“Can you—I noticed bruises going under your shirt can y-you…”

Knuckle pulled his tank-top off without complaint. Shoot winced as he looked at the mess of bruising that littered across his stomach and chest.

“You might of… does it feel like your rib is broken again?”

Knuckle shrugged and looked back at the door. “Not as bad,” he muttered.

“Still I probably… can you, ah…lift your arms.”

Knuckle looked at him for a long moment but lifted his arms with a wince. Shoot took some gauze and with a quick glance to assure nobody was around summoned a hand to help him carefully wrap his ribs as best he could.

“How do you know how to do this?” Knuckle asked as Shoot tied it off. He was staring wide eyed at the hand, belatedly Shoot realized he’d never shown it to Knuckle before. He blushed and it disappeared.

“Morel makes you learn a lot of different things,” Shoot explained as he ducked away to pull out some disinfectant.

“Oh.”

“Can I see your hands… their uh, bleeding a little?”

Knuckle snorted but let him see his hand. His knuckles were shredded and bruised. Shoot winced and carefully tried to clean them. Knuckle winced.

“What… what happened?”

Knuckle shrugged. “I don’t… I don’t really know. There were… _so_ many people there but I saw the puppies and… I got so mad and then they were all unconscious.”

Shoot stared at him for a long moment and then activated his Gyo. His eyes widened at the exhausted but very there aura fizzing off of Knuckle’s skin.

“Nen. You activated your _Nen_ , just like I—uh.”

Knuckle blinked at him.

“It’s activated.” Shoot finished lamely.

“Is that even possible?”

“Sometimes it activates during really stressful situations,” Shoot explained avoiding his eyes as he began wrapping up his fingers. “So yeah, it’s rare though.”

“Oh…cool… I guess that explains how…” He slumped against the wall and stared into the distance. Concerned Shoot glanced through his bangs.

“I didn’t want to,” he whispered after several more bandages were in place. Shoot’s eyes widened and he glanced up properly. Knuckle’s lip was twitching and his eyes were beginning to tear up again. “I really, _really_ didn’t want to—I didn’t want to let him down, I didn’t want to—”

Hesitating Shoot squeezed Knuckle’s hand slightly. “I…I know.”

Knuckle looked relived at that and Shoot felt horrible. He _hadn’t_ known. He’d thought maybe that’s why he’d been late. But now…

Now he believed.

Knuckle wasn’t that bad.

A woof caused them both to jump and look around widely. Knuckle spotted the young man and the dog first and his eyes lit up. Shoot sprung around to see as well.

“Matt!” He all but squealed and jumped off the chair to meet the straining dog who instantly attempted to jump up on him and lick him at pretty much everywhere.

“I thought he might cheer you up,” the man grinned. “He’s been missing you.”

“I missed you too!”

“He’s been a bit lonely. He’s the only one that’s left. All the rest of them have already been adopted already. _Someone_ trained them well I see. I imagine he’ll find his own home soon.”

Knuckle ducked his head, face red. Shoot blinked at the scene.

“You…know him?”

Knuckle looked back looking pleased through his split lip and swelled eye. “Yeah… he was part of the pack I used to care for.” His smile turned fond. “Morel set them up here when I refused to leave them. He brought me here once before we went to the apartment to prove he did what he said and that they were safe.” He turned back to the door and Shoot remembered Dog and smiled slightly.

Then he turned to the intern. “Can we have a couple of icepacks?”

“Huh…oh, yeah, _shit_ kid what happened to you.”

“Uh…”

 

Knuckle was asleep. Shoot wasn’t sure if he should let him sleep—he hadn’t thought to check for a concussion—but Knuckle looked so tired and weirdly comfortable on the old stringy couch he’d been allowed to fall asleep on. They’d been moved to one of the staff rooms before they had opened for the day, and Knuckle had crashed snuggled up with Matt as soon as he was given somewhere even slightly comfortable to sleep on.

He was probably okay, but what if he _wasn’t?_

“Well he doesn’t look good.”

Shoot jumped and turned, heart pounding in his ear and two ghostly hands at his shoulders only to find Knov standing in his doorway fixing his glasses. He shuddered as he slowly relaxed. He was tired to—and ready for today to end.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Knov responded walking over to get a better look at Knuckle. Matt growled lowly before he got to close. He stopped intrigued.

Shoot rolled his eyes—if he hadn’t meant to startle him he shouldn’t have been using Zetsu.

“Perceptive dog,” Knov muttered before turning back to him. “I see you’ve already seen to him.” Shoot blushed but nodded. “Good. Morel should be here soon. I would have been here sooner but I was… held up.” He smiled slightly and Shoot almost shuddered. Morel was far enough away that Shoot wasn’t surprised he wasn’t here yet, but Knov being held up…

…Knuckle probably wouldn’t have to worry anymore at least.

“If you want to wake him up we can go home now.”

“No.” A sleepily mumble interrupted. Both Knov and Shoot glanced over to see the slightest crack of an eye peek out from Matt’s fur.

“No? You don’t want a real bed?”

“Not until I know the puppies are okay,” The voice slurred.

Knov stared at him for a long moment and then sat primly down on the office chair. “Alright, we can wait.”

 

Knuckle was still sniffling as they walked into the apartment. Two of the puppies hadn’t made it through surgery and another was in critical condition from the drug pouch bursting at the last minute. He’d almost demanded to stay until he knew of that puppy’s fate but Knov had managed to convince him otherwise. The presence of Matt at his side was most of it. It wouldn’t last—Morel didn’t let them keep pets—not Dog all those years ago, not Knuckle’s pack. They were away from home to often for that, but for now the shelter hadn’t minded a few day fostering.

“Go to bed,” Knov suggested his voice softer than normal. “It’s been a long night. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

Both of them listened, though Knuckle had just stood there until Shoot managed to gain the courage to place his hand on his back and lead him to their room. Once there he’d flopped on his bed on his own, Matt jumping up and squirming into his arms with a whine.

Shoot actually took the time to quickly change into something a bit more comfortable and pull down his hair. As he sat down on his bed, suddenly desperately exhausted, he glanced over to Knuckle still in his dirty and torn clothes, muddy shoes on his feet.

He laid down.

Thirty minutes later he was still awake when Knuckle mumbled. “They’re just puppies. I don’t understand.”

Shoot frowned at the wall. “I…don’t either.”

“I hope they _die._ ”

“Knov probably killed them—or at least beat them badly.”

“ _Good.”_

They slept after that.

 

When Shoot awoke Knuckle was gone, he could hear muffled talking through the walls, and Matt had joined him. Groggily he got up, used the bathroom and wandered into the rest of the house.

It was late in the day, he could tell by the light coming through the windows, and Morel was home. He was sitting with Knov and Knuckle. Knuckle was leaning over a cup with a leaf in it covered in fresh and far more professionally done bandages. The swelling had gone down too and he turned as Shoot stopped awkwardly in the doorway.

“Shoot! Shoot! I’m an Emitter!” He turned back to the cup and as Shoot watched it turned purple. “Yes! That’s five different colors now.”

“Good job, kid,” Morel laughed and ruffled his hair. Knuckle shot him a quick glare but quickly returned to the cup. Knov laughed a little from behind a beer.

Shoot wandered closer, stopping next to Morel.

“Welcome to the waking world, kid,” He greeted, tipping his own beer. Shoot gave him a look before turning back to watch Knuckle as he attempted a sixth color.

“Is… everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, things are fine. You don’t have to worry about any of it, plus—hey, Knuckle didn’t you have some good news.”

“Oh, yeah!” Knuckle glanced back up, his grin so wide Shoot was amazed his lip didn’t split again. “The puppy made it out of critical condition, she’ll live!”

Shoot smiled slightly. “That’s good.” Knuckle turned back to his cup, cheering as it turned yellow and Shoot’s smile fell. He glanced at Morel from the corner of his eye. “But that’s… not what I mean.”

“Hmm?”

“I mean… with the job?”

“Oh, well I won’t be getting paid but nothing bad happened,” Morel shrugged and took another gulp. Shoot winced.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” he set down his bottle and turned to look at Shoot seriously. “You did exactly what you are supposed to do. It’s not your fault it happened while I was on the job. I’m just glad the two of you are okay.”

Shoot blushed and looked away and nodded. Morel grinned at him and ruffled his hair before pulling out a seat. “Anyway, you have to be starving. Knuckle was telling us about this really good hoagie place, Italian with extra hot peppers, right.”

Shoot smiled slightly. “Yeah, that’s right.”

 

Morel read through the letter carefully. He’d been waiting for this—careful to assure he got the mail before Knuckle could see it. He didn’t want to betray the kids trust, or go behind his back—but he wasn’t about to kidnap a kid from a good home either.

He had sent one letter—and it would only ever be one letter—and he couldn’t help be relieved that the response was positive. Knuckle had the makings of a great Hunter one day once some of the kinks were worked out, and Knov would laugh at him if he knew but Morel would have missed the kid if he had to send him away.

He’d make sure Knuckle kept in contact though. There were good people on the other side of this letter and there was no point needlessly cutting good people out of your life.

Considering the money he was determined to send he didn’t think that would be a problem.

Folding it up he slid it into his pants pocket to hide for now only to stop as he noticed movement out the window.

Knuckle was up the tree in the apartment’s backyard—making his way towards a cat that looked far more at home then he did. Shoot was standing below him, brows raised.

Amused he opened the window and their voices washed over him.

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” Knuckle tried as he crawled his way a bit closer.

“I’m telling you, the only thing stuck in that tree is you,” Shoot called up dryly. Morel raised an amused eyebrow at that as he rested his elbow on the windowsill to watch.

Knuckle attempted to flick Shoot off only to barely catch himself as he slipped. “I’m _not_ stuck,” he refused, before turning his attention back to the cat that had been watching him carefully and had started to hunch back with his near fall. “C’mon kitty, let’s get you down from there.”

He managed another foot or two before the cat hissed at him and with a few elegant leaps jumped down the tree, onto the back wall and disappeared.

It was quite in the yard for a long moment.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“…Maybe.”

…

…

“Are you going to come down?”

“Shut up.”

“I still haven’t said anything.”

“Just… grrrr, can you help me down?”

Shoot smiled slightly and walked up to the base of the tree. With a frown and a deep look of concentration, two hands formed at his shoulders and he slowly raised them to Knuckle’s level. Knuckle grabbed onto both of them, and with a grunt Shoot brought him down. Morel was impressed. He’d have to raise the difficulty of Shoot’s training if he could do that with minimal effort.

“…Thanks…” Knuckle mumbled as he glanced everywhere but at Shoot, stuffing his hands into his pockets in a vain attempt at reclaiming his tough image. “Couldn’t you have gotten him down with those?”

“Sure, but I knew he was fine. He sleeps there all the time.”

“What! _Really_! And you didn’t _tell_ me!” Knuckle roared as he turned back around. Shoot’s eyes went wide and he took a step back, hand coming to pick at this collar.

“I t-tried.”

Morel could see the instant comprehension and then regret passed through Knuckle’s expression. He turned away again in a false huff, hunching over, and pulled out a half-eaten bag of dried cherries and stuffed one in his mouth. His voice was much softer when he continued. “Yeah, yeah, whatever… you want some?”

Morel smiled: not making eye contact, making himself seem smaller, low soft voice, and an offering of food.

As Shoot hesitantly reached out to grab some Morel turned away to figure out what to make for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cherries at the end are reference to a great little story: "Smile" by tastewithouttalent by the way. IF you haven't read it you should!
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this little story. After this I have a Morel/Knov story that takes place during the chimera arc and then after that (Eventually as it's not quite done yet) is a much larger chapter story takes place with the Hunter family (Plus Palm, Ikago, and Meleron) in the aftermath of the chimera arc, Gon's near death and sudden healing but with a twist. Eventually I'll have other stories as well (I have quite a few ideas) but those two are the ones that are close to finish.


End file.
